Here’s my idea of the perfect weekend: I get up a bit late and spend the entire day by relaxing with a perfect book and writing/reading on my computer at home.
Here’s my dad’s: Get up way early in the morning, drive to a nearby mountain, and hike up.
So this morning, I got up before the sun did, bathed with my eyes half-closed, and got on the car for a three hour drive to
Kelud Mountain, Kediri. I slept for most of the trip, accidentally banged my head against the window every time we hit a bump in the road. It wasn’t the smoothest ride, and I was aching all over when we finally arrived.
The fog was thick and the wind was blowing, so we put on our jackets and sneakers and began the journey. I learned that you can’t actually climb the mountain, since it is an active volcano, but you can walk down a path to get close enough to the feet of the mountain. At first, it was easy. The path was smooth and straight and it wasn’t too cold. Then we had to walk across a pitch black tunnel (I finally figured out why my dad insisted on bringing a flashlight), and then the difficult part began.
There’s a spot they called ‘the scenery post’, where you can see the volcano in its full glory from the top. But to get there, you would have to climb the stairs. 500 of them, more or less. The stairs weren’t made to be comfortable either; they were tall and narrow and the handle was all rusty. I had to stop several times to catch my breath, while my father happily snapped a few pics of us everytime he found a good spot. My sister had it worse though. She seemed to struggle more than I did, and refused to budge for several minutes by the time we got to the top.
Aside from the much-needed exercise, the journey up those stairs was actually useless. By the time we were halfway up, the mountain and world beneath me was wrapped in a dense, gray fog, as if we had climbed up those stairs right through the clouds. It was beautiful, in a scary way.
We took several more pictures at the post before we began the trip down those stairs again. Halfway down, rain began to fall. Luckily, it wasn’t too heavy, so we could continue on our way without getting soaked. But it was cold, and I was tired and having mood swings, so I got a bit cranky. Knowing my parents wouldn’t accept the attitude, I sucked it up and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. That helped, somewhat, and before I knew it, I was at the bottom of the stairs and the fog was gone.
Exhausted and aching, I would have loved to go back to the car and go home. But it wasn’t over yet. We had to go down yet another flight of stairs to see the mountain up, close, and personal. Well, not that close, but close enough to see the small mountain that formed inside of the original mountain’s dome. My dad tried to explain how it happened, but my brain tuned out any information other than the fact that my ankles were aching and that I needed to sit. We took more pics, and finally,
FINALLY, we went back to the car.
It’s strange that the older I get, the weaker I seem to become. I’ve gone hiking with my family numerous times, starting when I was little. Mom said Dad used to carry me on his back when I got tired, but when I was eight or nine, I was able to make it on my own, carrying a small bag pack. I remember not being this tired, even feeling rather triumphant when I reached the top. I still feel a bit triumphant now, but the exhaustion beats it out everytime.
I wanna be a kid again. T.T
Labels: family, hiking, Kelud, vacation
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Tipsy, hiding under the ironing table